You get a day, nice and clear of any responsibilities during which you can get a lot of “work” done on a dress, and what do you do? Nothing. Well laundry and napping and reading and some cat lovin’. I did f-all on Friday but it was fine. I cleaned up my place thoroughly—when you live in your studio, you live in chaos.
Saturday ended with dinner at my favourite neighbourhood restaurant, La Brasserie, with Bruce.
It seems to me that something good has happened.
Since my breakdown I’ve been trying to learn how to live with my symptoms but my symptoms kept changing. For example: I spent four of the past nine months learning to live with seizures that I no longer have. I believe this new and welcome sense of calm I feel is because my condition has stabilized.
I posited my insights with Dr. Shoja last week and her responses, as I wrote here afterwards, recognized and rewarded the advancement I felt I had made—I am living with a much clearer understanding of my condition and, therefore, how to live with it.
I’m okay with life with anxiety (C-PTSD) and stuttering. I am, as is said nowadays, “cool with that.” It may improve, but if it doesn’t I am absolutely fine with who I am today.
And this new calmness infuses the “work” I do on my dresses. And I’m feeling that there is life emerging in the script. I’m writing in entirely new way—I’m writing out of sequence. I’ve never ever done this before; technical writing makes you a slave to logic and/or chronology.
Today I will trash the sculpture dress and start again armed with a new sense of calm and confidence. And I’ll continue with this new way of writing I love.
I felt my emotions deeply when I learned that my friend Donna had been murdered by the man she loved for four decades. So when I felt feelings that matched those of a character in my script, I wrote while feeling that emotion. It was incredible and nothing like technical writing. It was absolutely thrilling.